Dead, Bedamned and the Rest Gone Whist
by Adelaide Pitman
Summary: "You..." He leaned against the doorframe for support. "You're dead." "Yes, as you see, quite dead." I laughed at his stricken face. How I had missed his comical expressions. "I'm the ghost of Christmas past." (Gender bender! Captain Hook as a female, steampunk, pirate. And what's this? Peter Pan is the bad guy? Shocking! Don't like, don't read.)
1. Prologue

Prologue

"Here." Seth bolted up right as a new mug appeared in front of him. "Times are rough and you look like you could use it." He followed the voice to its owner, a pudgy, square faced man with a large expanse of waistcoat.

"Not sure what you could be referring to. Business has been brisk as usual." Cold eyes assessed the man and the offered drink, and a slow smile spread across lips that were far too thin. "But your generosity is greatly appreciated." Seth took the drink, pride still firmly intact.

"Forgive me." Chuckling, the man slapped a meaty hand across the scratched wood. "I forgot that you're a Smee. You come from good stock, boy."

"Excuse me?" As if donning a mask, Seth dropped all emotion from his face. "You seem to be mistaking me for someone else." The man shook his head, tapping the heel of his well-shined shoe to the worn floorboards. "Absolutely not." He sputtered. "I'd recognize that face anywhere. I believe it's the-" He abruptly stopped speaking as Seth sat forward and produced a long, wickedly sharp throwing knife from his sleeve and proceeded to dangle it from his gaunt fingers.

"I think you've forgotten what exactly my line of work is." Leaning forward, Seth jammed the blade into the table mere inches from the man's hand. "One wrong word could ruin my image, now, couldn't it?" He whispered, pointedly staring down at the blade as if he was curious as to how it had gotten there. "You were saying?"

"U-uh..." The man gaped, glancing from the knife to Seth repeatedly. "N-nothing. I must have been mistaken. If you'll excuse me." Without waiting for a reply, He left, the door to the bar thudding shut behind him.

Seth sighed. "I thought so." He hid the grin steadily forming behind the mug as he finished off what was left of the ale.

"You're in a sour mood." The stately woman behind the bar shook her head and glared at the weapon that Seth retrieved from the table as he stood to go.

"You heard the man." He gestured towards the door. "Times are rough." Tossing her a coin, he left in a swirl of dark coat. His boots met the cold of the paving stones and the darkness led him out of the alley with a comforting embrace. The light from the street lamps felt heavy upon his head, but he nodded at the men lounging against the brick wall as he passed. They spared him a wave even though Seth had already rounded the corner and faded into the shadows that roosted with feathery wings along the street.

Still, he took no comfort from the charcoal depths of the city that enfolded him safely, not like he normally would. Night could forgive anything, but now, his thoughts were at a place that no amount of forgiving could fix. "A sour mood, indeed." Seth muttered, tilting his face upwards to catch a glimpse of the shimmering skylight.

A large, dark shape passed lazily over the cramped rooftops, its double-acting steam engine pushing the massive propellers with a dull roar. Leisurely, his thoughts shifted to her. Was she still able to travel through the clouds in defiance of the wind like she always loved? He had to grin at that, knowing the answer all to well. She probably wouldn't be allowed to do much of anything where she was. Seth glanced at the ground beneath his feet and then shook his head with a smile. It couldn't be healthy to keep dwelling upon the past in this way. For the sake of business, he had to move on.

The key slid into the lock and turned with several whispered clicks. Listening carefully, Seth counted each catch as it snapped open. He frowned as the door swung inward. "Gears need an oiling." Mumbling, he slipped out of his coat, throwing it onto the peg and shutting the door so he could take a look at the mechanism. The light form the gas sconces shone off of the brass and glittered in demand. Straightening, he looked around, suddenly alert for any sign of disturbance. Sure enough, the door at the end of the hall, the one that led to his study, was ajar.

In several long strides, Seth gripped the knob with tense fingers before easing it open. The room, threaded with rich shades of crimson, glowed with a contentedly murmuring fire in the hearth. His eyes traveled instantly to the desk. Or, to be more precise, to the plush chair behind the desk. In it reclined a smirking female, her leather boots thrown carelessly over the armrest.

"You..." He leaned against the doorframe for support. "You're dead."


	2. Chapter the First

"Yes, as you can see, quite dead." I laughed at his stricken face. How I had missed his comical expressions. "I'm the ghost of Christmas past." Swinging my legs to plant my feet firmly on the carpet once more, I rested my chin in my hands so as to better study him.

"How can you jest about this?" Rubbing viciously at his temple, he fell into one of the arm chairs closer to the fire. Gray eyes regarded me with a rolling sea of emotions so vast that I could not decipher them all. I noticed, with a tinge of what might be considered regret if my soul were not so black, that smudges of sleepless nights haunted his thin face. The usual sharp gray suit he wore hung in a pitiable state on his shoulders. When had he last eaten?

"Are you even listening?"

"Of course." I smiled and stroked the back of my neck. "What were you saying?"

Scowling, he stood, placing his hands on the desk and hovering over me. "I just asked where the hell you've been."

"Oh, that." I settled further back into the cushions with what I hoped was an appeasing smile. "You know, here and there." I waved him back to his seat, but he ignored the gesture and continued to tower above me. Huffing, I frowned. "Very well, I've spent the last few months as a cabin boy aboard the _Deliverance_ to scrounge up a few shillings. You should be grateful, it took nearly all of my wages just to come and see you."

He gave a bark of laughter. "That's rich. Never thought I'd see you working, and as a cabin boy no less. How the mighty have fallen"

"Yes, well-" I stood, catching his face in my hands and bringing him closer before he could retreat. "I hope you still remember that deal we made because I've come to collect." I let a curious thumb smooth across the hallow under his eye. His breath brushed against my cheek with a caress though their was murder behind his gaze and I smirked. "What, you didn't think I'd forget, did you?"

"What do you mean?" Seth stilled, surrendering to me even though he could have easily broken my hold.

"Don't play coy, you know very well what I mean." The grin slowly grew across my lips. "Or shall I remind you of the money I lent in order for you to start that little business venture of yours?" We were very close now, and I could smell the ale on his breath: a chocolate smooth porter that was the Dark Horse specialty.

"What is it that you want?" He stiffened against me as I blinked up at him through my lashes in mock sweetness.

"Nothing much, just a ship and crew." This apparently struck a chord as he jerked away and out of my reach.

"That's absurd. I can't afford a ship and you know it. Besides, you already have one." Seth broke away in favor of pacing the floor and running his fingers through his short brown hair until it stuck up at odd angles.

"Do you think I'd be here if I had?" I leant against the windowsill and turned to take the full brunt of my anger out on the murky glass that hid my view of lacy shadows stalking through the back-alley.

"Jamey, what happened?" His voice was tentative, testing the air between us, but it failed to loose that edge of frustration. I turned my head at the strange sound of my name. How long had it been since someone called me that?

"Haven't you read the papers?" My jaw tightened as he nodded. "Apparently, _The_ _Stella_ was dashed to pieces by a freak storm." I crossed my arms over my chest. "But since a fire destroyed all evidence, including that of the crew and the cargo they were carrying, the Sky Guard didn't exactly bother to go into details, now did they? Convenient? Hardly."

"What have you done?" Seth's groaned as he started messaging his forehead once more. Briefly, I wondered if it was a vain effort on his part to end his terrible suffering of being saddled with me by taking his own life via reaching through his cranium and pulling out brain matter. He was most certainly, even now, questioning whether or not it would have been better if I had perished in that fire.

"They have no right to me or my ship. We weren't near any port, and thus out of jurisdiction, but we all know who pays the Sky Guard's salary." The last of my words came through clenched teeth, but I was already slipping over the desk towards him: a panther stalking pray. "No, don't speak. Let me finish." Eyes narrowing, he pulled a knife from his sleeve as he backed away a pace or two. "We were returning from the Orient where we had attained some rather sensitive information regarding certain transactions between the Emperor and the British government."

"Are you trying to provoke a war or do you genuinely derive pleasure from uncovering past sins?" He had halted his retreat, perhaps realizing how useless it was or how excited it was making me. I loved the hunt. Loved the fear I could practically taste.

"You shouldn't ask questions you already know the answers to. People may come to think you slow witted, and we wouldn't want that, pet." Dangerously close, I reached to run a thumb over the blade. I knew every scratch, every notch missing, and could recount each event that had caused them. "That port was teaming with spies. No doubt word reached someone back here and they met us on the open skies. They brought out all their big ships and shiny guns. What a shame you couldn't have been there to see." It only took a bit of pressure and I was retracting my thumb to watch savagely as blood welled from the cut. I could feel his eyes following the movement before coming to rest on the place where he had once attempted to shove that very same knife into my heart while I slept.

"I had been careless, but that battle was over before it even started. Still, for all of their finery, they're not very thorough, are they?" Turning away, I ambled towards the cabinet on the far wall, or more importantly, towards the brandy that was in the cabinet. "After all, here I am, alive and well. But I must remember to thank them, that look on your face, like you'd seen a ghost." With a jerk, I had the amber liquid free of it's confines and into two glasses.

"How dare you come here." He crossed the room in several long strides, snarling like some vicious dog. "After all this time, what gives you the right?" Snatching the glasses, he then tired for the brandy but my grip only tightened around the bottle.

"You know very well what gives me the right, Seth Smee." I gave him a smile the devil himself would not have been capable of as I took the largest chair near the fire and tossed the glass stopper to its demise in the flames. "However, I don't have a problem with reminding you. You swore on your life, and I on mine. Not that they're good for very much I can imagine." Tipping my head back, I let a sip of the liquid slide down my throat with a moan of delight. "Blood for blood."

"I left that life to start a new one here, and nothing is going to stand in my way, do you understand that?" His jaw had settled into something hard and unforgiving. Seth's question drifted to me over blurred images that flickered as memories.

I could picture it clearly: the wind fumbling at my hair with clumsy fingers, the smell of gunpowder filling my nostrils. We fought relentlessly and yet they kept coming. Finally, they had Jonathan and myself cornered at the helm. Smiling, I gave my first mate a nod, knowing we might never come out of this alive. But as I turned to raise my cutlass, air deserted me as much from the blow to the stomach as the betrayal that it accompanied it. I saw Jonathan's face grinning at me, and then, the railing fell away from me as the breezes spun me downward and howled all the while in my ear.

That was the last thing I remembered as the pressure became too much. I vaguely thought I heard Jonathan scream, but perhaps it was my imagination. When my eyes opened again, I was in a small fisherman's shack on the coast with the smell of roasting cod and a burning ship.

"Does it matter? I'm alive now and in need of payment." I met Seth's hard stare with one of my own. "And when I'm finished, Commodore Pan will know every misery my crew and I have suffered ten fold." A muscle jumped in his face, and I continued before he could interrupt. "Listen, I only need a ship and a crew for a short while. Just until I'm able to put together a suitable one of my own. That's all. I'll even promise you half of the cargo of _The Stella_ should we manage recover it from those bastards."

"I don't..." He took at deep breath. "This is madness. We could die."

"I know. I wouldn't have bothered with anything less. Just like old times." I gave him a toothy smile. "Do we have an agreement?"

"...Very well."

* * *

><p>"Idiots! The lot of you!" Slamming my foot into the lever, the ship hit the sudden updraft with a bone-shaking rattle. It would be surprising should she and her crew ever make land safely again. "Move." I pushed the coxswain aside and gripped the wheel with both hands. Unhurriedly, the ship righted herself and returned to her proper course.<p>

"Who taught you how to steer, maggot?" The man cowered before me. He was nothing but a boy, let alone an aeronaut, that much was obvious.

"My pa, Captain, sir." He gave me a shaky salute, and I scoffed. The cracked googles with worn leather and tarnished metal hanging from his neck definitely seemed from a previous generation though they were well cared for.

"Do your job right, man, or you'll kill us all." Gesturing for him to take the wheel, I stomped out of the control cabin and climbed up to the observation deck.

The air had a mournful voice tonight, and the clouds hid the crescent moon with wispy trills. A perfect cover, I thought with a shiver of excitement. Wind twisted through my jacket and harness and straight into my soul. As I reached the top of the platform, a warm hand gripped my elbow and hauled me the rest of the way up the ladder.

"Sounds like you were having fun." Seth smirked as I glared death at him.

"Those fools wouldn't know a break line from a canon, and this ship," I stomped my foot against the rusted metal that groaned underneath our weight, "will most likely fall apart at the next gust of wind. Are you trying to murder us?"

He chuckled. "On the contrary, I find it highly amusing." Seth moved to the edge of the railing and sat down, dangling his feet over the edge into nothingness.

"You would, Smee" I muttered, settling myself next to him. "You would."

"Nobody calls me that anymore." Sounding tired, his shoulder brushed against mine as he sagged forward onto the railing.

"I believe I just did, Smee." Feeling around at my belt, I pulled forth a bronze spy glass and set it to my eye. It was hard to see anything, let alone a ship, through the cloud cover. The billows curled upwards into mangled, angry clumps.

"Jamie." I dropped the glass into my lap with an annoyed grunt to look at him. "When they said you were dead, I wanted to-"

"I know." I picked up the glass again so that I could glare at the clouds rather than my companion. "I wanted to kill them all, as well."

"But I," he swallowed, "I should've come after you. Tried to find you." The rusty piece of iron moaned beneath his weight as he shifted on it.

Sighing, I shook my head. "Look, when it happened, I-" Suddenly, a sharp screeching sound caught my attention, but not quick enough as the metal snapped clean away from its bolts and I was abruptly facing air.

"Seth!" I bent over the edge, wedging my fingers into the cracks between each metal panel that covered the ship like skin so that I could lean out further. The sigh that burst from my throat was immediately snatched away by the wind. A dark lumpy shape stuck to the side of the ship. There was no time to think, I had to get him up somehow.

Years in the sky served as a comforting blindfold to my fears as I eyed the cable to one of the aft sails flapping wildly in the breeze. On this particular ship, there were precisely twenty of them situated just so to keep the fin like material taut. Yanking my goggles off my head and over my eyes, I felt at my belt for a knife. I always kept at least five on my person. It was a harsh trade I had involved myself in, and learning to keep myself armed had been a cruel lesson indeed.

With the blade firmly clamped between my teeth, I took a running start and leapt clean off the deck. The rushing wind licked at my heels as I flapped madly through emptiness. A shriek left my throat, muffled by my knife, the moment my hands caught the rope and coarse fibers ripped at the skin of my palms. I swung awkwardly for a few seconds, cursing for forgetting to swipe a new pair of gloves the last time I'd been in port.

Finally, I managed hook my legs over it and use the knife to slash at the thick woven strands. This had little effect as the rope was deceptively thin, and my hands slowly began to cramp. I was nearly ready to rip at the thing with my teeth, one final act of desperation, when a satisfying snap reached my ears. Unfortunately, my moment of triumph was brief as the rope, with me attached, dropped downward and collided with the side of the ship.

"Umph!" The impact caused my grip to loosen momentarily, and I plunged several feet further before regaining my hold. "Seth!" I was close enough to make out his face staring up at me with wide eyes. "Are you alright?"

"I'm just fine, thank you for asking." He was shouting but I took it as a good sign. If his sarcasm was still intact then the rest of him wouldn't be far behind. Shame. Perhaps I should've waited a bit longer before coming to his aid.

"Wonderful." I muttered. "I'm going to try and swing the rope to you." I called over howl of the wind and the wheezing sputter of the engines. This proved a tad more difficult due to the fact that I had to shift my weight from side to side while maintaing a steady grip.

"Take your time, it's not like I'm going anywhere." He tossed me a wry smile which I skillfully ignored. Sweat dripped from my forehead as I swung, and my hands were swiftly becoming numb. Finally, I had enough momentum to bring the tail end of cable within his reach. His fingers shot out - and missed.

A colorful slew of curses left my mouth as I threw myself through the air once more. This time, the rope struck Seth's face with a loud slap and I grinned. But there, he had it. Up he climbed, and though his build was wiry and tough, his years on the ground made his movements deft and clumsy.

"What now, Captain?" Seth peered up at me mockingly, stopping just below my knees.

The question caught me off guard and I glanced back to the observation deck to survey our options. Climbing all the way back would prove difficult and I could already feel my limbs stiffening at the thought. On top of all of this, Seth was out of practice, and I was unsure of how far he could make it. It seemed such a long way to climb. My eyes followed the path we would have to take. Then I saw it.

"There." I pointed to a small round porthole about five yards above our heads. "We'll climb in through that."

"I don't think you'll fit." The smirk in his voice sparked a few naughty thoughts in me of my boot slipping and connecting with the head just below my legs. I could always say it was an accident.

"Perhaps you should go first. That way, if you fall screaming to your death, maybe someone will hear and come to find me." I sent a sunny smile his way but was not expecting him to actually start climbing.

"Hold still, then. I won't be able to get past you if you keep squirming like that." Naturally, this was impossible as he had one arm around my thighs and the other hauling himself slowly upwards.

"Oi! Watch where you're putting your hands." Closing my eyes, I set my mind on all the ways I could kill Seth once we made it to safety. Thus, I didn't see the hand that grasped at my shoulder, dangerously close to an area that caused quite a few deaths for others that had attempted the same.

"No, no, this isn't working." Before he could protest my words, I launched myself upward. Using his head as a boost, I had the brass port-hole in my grasp and proceeded to try and pry it free.

"What's the matter?" Seth squinted up at me, his face rumpled against the wind.

"It's suppose to open from the inside." I fumbled with graceless fingers for my jacket pocket.

"Just break it then." Shifting, I allowed him to move further up to watch as I pulled a delicate metal object from it's hiding place in my in my clothing.

"Absolutely not." I eased the flexible, thin tool into the thread-like crack between the small window and the ship, trying to picture exactly where the catch was on the other side. "I don't want anything else that needs to be fixed to pass inspection on my ship." Locating the catch, I flicked it free and quickly stowed my implement away. The thick bit of glass easily popped opened and I shimmed up the rope to enter, feet first.

The landing was not nearly as painful as I expected it to be, but as I sat, huffing and disoriented from the darkness surrounding me, I realized what it was I had landed on. Grabbing at the stunned man's beard, I scrambled out of the bunk, yanking him along with me. My blade appeared at his gut, an ever present extension of my self - a wrathful streak. And I could be cruel.

"If I had been an enemy, you would be dead." Something moved from the corner of my eye, and I froze as a pen knife materialized at my throat.

"But so would you be." I recognized the voice of one of our younger crew. Haddock, or fish boy as I had instantly dubbed him upon hearing his surname, must have been sleeping in the top bunk. Clever boy.

"Perfect." I released the stocky man's beard, one of our boiler men I now saw, and put away my blade. "Don't ever forget boys, vigilance is key in this business. You've passed the test."

"Never could pass up an opportunity for a dramatic entrance." Seth shut the porthole and climbed out of the bunk to join us. "I think you missed your calling as a stage girl, Captain."

Without thinking, I grabbed fish boy's pen knife from his lax grip and threw it at Smee. I knew he would dodge it in time, and if not, well. I hadn't aimed anywhere vital. "You're lucky I find you entertaining enough to keep you around or I might not have gone to retrieve you out there." By this time, the rest of those sleeping in the surrounding bunks had woken and were staring at the unfolding events through curious eyes. "So, all hands on deck. We have some things to discuss, crew. Go gather everyone in the mess hall. Now!"

There was a general air of urgency as the men leapt from their narrow bunks, stuffing their feet into bulky work boots and tugging on harnesses and goggles. But Seth and I were left like two statues in a snow storm. Frozen and staring at each other. It wasn't long before we were the only ones in the cabin.

"What's the meeting for?" Plucking fish boy's knife from the wood behind him, Seth tossed it to me.

"To discuss all the repairs that need to be done to the ship once we make port." I used the pen knife to clean my nails while glancing occasionally at Seth's pants pocket where I knew his wallet resided merrily with his pip and tobacco. "And I believe you owe me a spyglass. The other fell to its death shortly after your unfortunate accident."

"Hardly." He snorted. "Listen closely, Hook." Seth advanced towards me, looking windswept and tired. "The deal was for a ship and crew, which I provided. I owe you nothing else, and if I did, you should've specified when we made all the arraignments." A hand slid around my upper arm and tugged me closer so that warm lips could whisper in my ear. "Don't get me wrong, Jamey. You saved my life, and for that I'm grateful. But I'd say this just makes us even from when you disappeared without a word."

I laughed outright. "What happened to the Smee I used to know? He wouldn't have cared even if I had been speared like a trout right in front of him." The grip tightened around my arm, most likely leaving a bruise.

"He was a fool." Seth let go of me, but his breath still haunted my neck. "I'm sorry if you don't like what you see, but you made me." And with that, I was alone in the cabin.

"How dare he." I slammed my toe into the door to open it, an action I instantly regretted. "The rat. I should've left him to die out there. Idiot."


End file.
